Bleeding (A Lord of the RingsSplintered Series Crossover Fanfic)
by elvennetherling729
Summary: Thranduil has a deadly secret, one that could determine the fate of Middle Earth, and one that could turn all his elven kin against him. Legolas is determined to find the truth, but at what cost? There is a reason the darkness clings so heavily to Mirkwood a reason greater than Sauron himself.
1. Prologue

**Hi, this is my first** **fan fiction so I apologize if it sucks. Anyways, this is a crossover fan fiction, but you only need to be familiar with Lord of the Rings in order to understand what's going on. All references to the Splintered Series will be explained. Also, this story centers around Thranduil, Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir and Elrond. I don't own anything except my characters. Please review. Enjoy!**

Prologue:

Ashes.

That's all that was left of the orc pack now.

Yes, it would do no good to have had someone stumble upon their corpses, to have them wonder about the manner in which they died. If the right person had come it could have reached the White Council's ears. They would have started asking questions.

Questions were bad.

No, the White Council was far better off believing they knew everything, rather than realizing they had only scratched the surface.

That was why she had burned the bodies, leaving no evidence of how they died.

It was how it should be. The races of Middle Earth in ignorance, while her people stayed in the shadows, unnoticed, blending in with this weak world.

For it to be any other way would mean war.


	2. Chapter 1

Elrohir gripped the blade in his hand, cutting through the orcs. They fell to his swift strokes, none escaping his fury.

He _was_ furious, driven by anger, grief and an unquenchable desire for revenge. Orcs had hurt his mother, tortured her till her mind mind and body were beyond repair. So she had sailed, leaving her husband, her daughter and twin sons to face the cruel world without her.

It only seemed fair that the orcs pay for the grief they caused.

Elrohir and his brother had started their rampages with the help of the Dunedain. The elven twins and the rangers had always gotten along well, and were happy to help rid the world of orc filth. Things changed when Aragorn joined the rangers.

Aragorn was the son of Arathorn, and heir to the throne of Gondor. The orphaned child had been raised in Rivendell, Elrond adopting him as a son. Both Elladan and Elrohir had welcomed the young human at first, calling him Estel. But things changed for Elrohir.

Elladan had always been somewhat favored over his "little" brother. It irritated Elrohir at times, but came to accept it as a part of life. But when Aragorn stepped into their lives, the younger twin became almost nonexistent. Resentment took root in his heart, an almost silent loathing towards Estel. Elladan and Elrond noticed a subtle change about him, but never pursued the matter as Elrohir always brushed off their concern and took careful measures to keep his emotions hidden.

Soon the orc raids became not only a quest of vengeance, but an escape from his human brother. When Estel joined the Dunedain, Elrohir convinced Elladan to hunt orcs on their own. Soon after splitting up with the rangers, the twins had found the trail of an orc pack heading south towards Rivendell. They followed it through the Misty Mountains where they found the creatures camped in a cave.

The fighting had begun.

Elrohir brought his sword down upon the skull of a particularly ugly orc, black blood splattering upon the ground. There were only a few orcs left. He thrust his blade into the heart of one of them as his brother finished off the last ones.

Elrohir scanned the bodies, counting them, wanting to know how many less of the vermin now walked the earth. "…twenty-five…twenty-eight…thirty-two…." He looked for his brother. "Weren't we tracking a company of at least fifty?"

"Yes," Elladan replied. "They must have split up."

"Let's go then," Elrohir said impatiently. He wanted to make sure those orcs didn't get out of the mountains alive.

Elladan nodded in agreement, following his brother out of the cave.

—

She stood there, watching them count the bodies.

"Weren't we tracking a company of at least fifty?" one of the elves asked.

The other one, identical in appearance to the first elf, replied, "Yes, they must have split up."

"Let's go then."

A small smile spread on her shadowed face. The two elves would not find their quarry, she had destroyed those orcs only yesterday, the ones she had burned. She wondered vaguely how long the twins would look before giving up. A long time, she decided. She had seen a vicious hunger in the first elf's eyes, the look of one who thirsts for revenge.

That elf was headed down a dark, dark road.

She had traveled it herself, many years ago, but abandoned the path before she became completely consumed.

Toying with an idea in her mind, she turned to follow the elves.

The twins continued onward, searching for signs of their prey. Never once did they notice they were being followed. Never were they aware of the shadow haunting their steps.


	3. Chapter 2

"I don't understand. It's as if the orcs simply disappeared."

Elrohir frowned. It didn't make sense. Either they had indeed vanished into thin air, or someone had killed the orcs and burned the bodies…. "Perhaps someone got to them before we did."

Elladan nodded. "It does seem like the only option. We've been searching for over a week after their trail disappeared. If the bodies were burned, or thrown over the cliffs, there'd be no trace anymore."

"No, there wouldn't be…" Elrohir trailed off. He looked behind him, as if expecting to see someone there, watching them from the mist. It was a strange feeling, not only could he sense eyes behind him, but he could, hear almost a voice in his mind. An undecipherable whisper, blending in with a buzzing in his ears. He leaned against the slope of the mountain, suddenly dizzy, black spots dancing in the corners of his eyes. The feeling got worse, his legs going weak.

"Elrohir?"

The elf shook his head, his brother's voice sounding so far away. He felt himself falling, the buzzing and whispers now grown to an intolerable volume.

 _Elrohir._

The voice was feminine, a silky sweet.

He opened his eyes, looking across to the other side of the ravine. A figure stood there masked by the shadows. The mist seemed to cling to her form, shrouding any distinguishable features.

 _You see me, don't you? Even when I don't want to be seen._

Elrohir's chest tightened. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. A great invisible weight seemed to be on him, pinning his body to the ground. The same pressure was on his mind, making it painful to even think. The skin on his inner left wrist began to itch.

 _You are drawn there….your blood is drawn there even though it isn't tied to the land._

The itch became more unbearable than the buzzing in his ears.

 _Why is that, Elrohir?_

The elf struggled against his invisible bonds. He pleaded silently for release, so he could move, so he could scratch that blasted itch.

 _I'm not the one restraining you._

His hand was shaking, the itch so painful he'd rather stab himself a hundred times than feel that way again. Desperately trying to find relief, he attempted to turn his focus onto other things, like moving this invisible boulder off his chest. He imagined the pressure fading as if his will alone could change his predicament. To his surprise, he felt the weight fading. Elrohir concentrated harder, until he had complete movement again. That was when he realized his brother was standing over him, trying to lift him up. Elrohir got to his feet, strength returned to his body, the itch barely noticeable.

"What happened? You just, collapsed and started twitching on the ground," Elladan gestured wildly with his hands.

Elrohir shrugged, "I really don't know. I must have been dehydrated or something." Truth was, he felt fine now, although he honestly had no idea what had just occurred. He looked behind his brother, blood draining from his face when he realized that figure was still there, across the ravine, watching them.

Only, she seemed closer than before.

He watched as a black moth with electric blue wings flew up from the depths of the ravine. It circled a few times around the shadowy figure's head, before landing on her shoulder.

He could have sworn it winked at him.

No, no it couldn't have. There must be some explanation for all of…this. Whatever this was.

And it seemed that explanation was that Elrohir, son of Elrond, was going insane.

He thought he heard the female's laughter following him and his brother as they continued their journey.


End file.
